It's All Funky Up In Here, Ya'll

Sometimes, if you're paying attention, delights just pop up out of nowhere. I can personally testify to this, because it happened to me just yesterday morning. There I was, perusing the Armando's calendar for next week, and out of nowhere, I learned about an exciting New Orleans Funk/Blues band that's going to be playing there. 

Now, I know what you're thinking -- more shameless self promotion for my band, The Very Bad Boys, who happen to be playing Armando's on Saturday, Jan. 17 from 8 p.m. to 11 p.m. The club is, by the way, located at 707 Marina Vista, right down from La Beau's, and is a Bay Area treasure and absolute delight for music fans, because it is geared for listening, not socializing, so music here is the primary motive, not an afterthought. And The Very Bad Boys will be playing an eclectic mix of New Orleans fonk, blues, and R&B. But more on that in a minute. 

First, a word about New Orleans, the first Soul Sister of American music; the living consciousness of American race relations; the frilly, dangerous, seductive, steamy, swampland of food, music and language. America was born, in many ways both comfortable and uncomfortable, on the shores of New Orleans. It is one of our oldest cities, and it is the landing spot of slave ships. It is where African music first sounded in the thick night air, played by slaves who were desperate for something familiar from their home. It is the place where that very sound met and morphed with other sounds, and the soul-screaming pain fused into something unique to the American experience. And over all these many great and horrible years later, we now have a juicy legacy of blues, soul, funk and jazz -- the tastiest treat in the musical menu, as far as I'm concerned. And as we prepare to welcome our first African American president into the White House, it seems just right to celebrate that notion with some New Orleans sounds.

Though it may not be the best marketing move, let me tell you about the band that's playing Armando's the night before my band. It's called the Jolly Gibsons, and oh my goodness, ladies and gentlemen, ya'll must reserve both nights, Jan. 16 and 17, for this special weekend New Orleans fonk festival. You are, by the way, reading the word 'fonk' correctly. It's the sound of New Orleans funk. Say it out loud. Fonk. That's the soul and spirit of this music. Anyway, the Jolly Gibsons are led by Jennifer Jolly, a keyboard player of the New Orleans genre (which is, for my money, the very best kind of keyboards). Most of my life spent right here in the Bay Area, playing music all over the place, and I've never encountered her before. But I'll be right there near the front on Friday, Jan. 16, because her work with this band (hear some at http://www.sonicbids.com/epk/epk.aspx?epk_id=77620) is nothing short of remarkable. Steve Gibson is on guitar, and his work is also stellar. The bass (Mark Fischer) and drums (Dave Bernfield) are held down by excellent players, and en masse these guys just make a joyful noise. It's not often that our own little town gets visited by New Orleans fonk specialists, but Friday, Jan. 16 is just such a night. Write it down, circle it in red, and come out to Armando's for this evening of fun and frolic. 

Oh, but then, rest up Saturday. Because Saturday night, Jan. 17, again from 8 p.m. to 11 p.m., out come, for  the first time in months, The Very Bad Boys. Now, we were the first band to actually play Armando's, back before the club even officially opened. And that gig, by the way, was the first official gig for The Very Bad Boys. Since then, we've added the mighty Bill Horton on drums, and the awe-inspiring Greg Beaudreaux on keyboards. We also play New Orleans Fonk, and we mix it up a little -- some reggae here, some Motown there -- all intended to cause as much aural cacophony as possible without hurting your ears. This night officially launches the Very Bad Boys 2009 Tour, which features five more stops at Armando's and a variety of other venues and exotic locales that have yet to be determined. But this space will keep you appraised of the situation as it unfolds. 

So we'll see you Friday and Saturday, Jan. 16 and 17, where the fonk meets the friends and they all dance together. Bon Temps Roullet, as they say.

Show Coming Up -- Rehearsals and Stress

My band, The Very Bad Boys, haven't done a show since New Year's Eve, but that was a dance, not a concert. We have our first concert since August coming up on the 17th of this month. Frankly, I'm a little concerned about the lack of new material. We have about 12 new songs we want to cover, in addition to four or five originals I've written, but only a couple of weeks to get them learned and under our belts.

In the past, things like this didn't bother me. You take your gear to the gig, you plug in and you play. People like you or they don't. And you go home smiling most nights.

For some reason, I'm worried this time. I don't want to play the same material we know and are comfortable with. I want to throw out new, unheard tunes. I want to explore new territories and scrape against the screen of the unknown. I want to see what we can do when we don't really know what we're doing. 

I've called for two rehearsals before the 17th, a challenge in the best of times. But hopefully we can do both of them, and in the process nail down the songs we've obligated ourselves to learning and playing. This band is not big on doing homework, and not terribly great at focusing during rehearsals. But I'm hoping we can all reach deep and dig out our desires to burn the house down at our next concert. Playing to drunks in bars is easy, and you get spoiled, because even when they're listening, they're drunk. If you throw a drunk a four-four, they'll love it, whether or not you're doing anything musically worthwhile. When you're playing a concert where people are seated, sober, and listening, you have to show up and play. You can't just cruise, and you can't just make funny faces and pretend you're squeezing out your best. You have to give it up. 

What began as a loose configuration of friends is morphing into something a little more serious. As the navigator of this journey, I can only hope that I'm up to the task of making this happen in a way that shows off our skills and instincts in the best possible way. 

I'm not grumpy! Now get off my lawn!

There's a fellow guitarist right here in Martinez who reads this here blog, and I'm nothing if not shamefully influenced by my audience. A couple of weeks ago, he said "I always look to see who you're ranting about this week." He enjoys the ranting, I noted to myself. Must rant more.

So I wrote last week's column about new year predictions and decibel meters. My own band members accused me of trying to get assassinated, or telling people that if they don't like it too loud they can just leave. Which is not, astute readers will already know, at all what I said. My wife accused me of being negative. Try as I might, I cannot get the love 'round here. 

But, I thought, CB will enjoy the rant. He said he loves the rants. So I took no small amount of comfort in that. 

Today, in an early afternoon visit to The Good Stuff Guitar Shop, he was there. Well, I inquired, how did you like the column? 

"You're grumpy," he observed. 

Which just goes to show that you cannot, try as you might, please anyone at all. I mean, one would think that a rant about decibel meters and their abuse by those who would impose their volume ethic on everyone would appeal to a fellow guitar playing band dude. But noooo. Instead, I get accused of grumpyhood. 

In future columns, I shall shower light and flowers all over the place, and ne'er say a discouraging word about anything or anyone. I'm gonna get all Donovan on ya'll (those under 35, don't mind the reference -- it means all hippie and peace-love and flowery). 

And I'm gonna do all that as soon as you all get off of my lawn! 

Bold Predictions, Fearless Prognostications For This, Our Newest of Years

"There is no problem so great/that you cannot run away from it." The late, great blues/folk guitarist and singer Dave Van Ronk said that, and it's certainly as true today as it was then. But it's clear from all indications that Americans are tired of running away from our problems, and are ready to, as they say at the new Kinder's Meats in the Muir Station Shopping Center, "wash my hands and prepare your order." 

A mere 19 days from now, a gigantic party will take place from sea to shining sea. For some, a joyous beginning, for others, a sorrowful wake. But when it's over, on Jan. 21 for all of us, as Americans, it's a chance to start again, get some much-needed work done, make our case, plead our cause. This is a vast and great nation, with important work to do. We seem to have forgotten that somehow over the past years. It's time to remember.

That said, let's get to the important stuff. What is going to happen in the world of music in 2009? I've given this much thought, dear readers. I've used my best statistical models, employed complex databases and consulted hundreds of experts, all in the service of making this column as thorough and accurate as possible. So let's get to it. 

Prediction: As local bars and clubs continue to monitor the sound levels of bands with those repulsive decibel meters, the material covered by said bands will tend toward John Mayer, Crosby, Stills and Nash, and James Taylor. Rock and roll will become a distant memory, and the only thing still allowed to thunder through the city will be the sound of the modified Harleys, which the police department will continue to insist is ok, because it's for safety.

Side note about the decibel meters: if the bands are truly too loud for the audience, then the audience would leave. It's not the audience who has a problem with the volume. I am a proponent of reasonable volume myself, but this trend to stick a meter in my face and bark at me to turn it down, often by people who have little or no musical abilities themselves, in the name of some audio safety benchmark, just makes me want to buy a Marshall stack and turn it up to 11. Whatever happened to rock and roll? When did we become a nation of decibel meter geezers? Studies have shown that people too obsessed with reading studies about hearing loss become boring. I have a great storage suggestion for anyone who happens to have one of those decibel meters. Give me a call. . .

Prediction: despite a continuously demonstrated fact that Martinez is a hotbed of musical talent, the city's event organizers will continue to ignore that and book musical acts based on whether or not they charge for their services, for the occasional Main Street event. And the musicians themselves will continue to remain disjointed and unorganized, thus perpetrating the problem. Would it really be so difficult to stage an  annual musical celebration of Martinez at Waterfront Park? We have enormous resources here. An event like that could feature kids from Gina Graziano's class, local rock bands, the Martinez Opera, jazz and blues, the community band, the Alhambra Valley Band for bluegrass. . . that kind of event would attract more than just the locals, but what the heck is wrong with attracting locals to a celebration of local talent? It would be a simple thing to organize and operate, and would be a blast to attend. Why are our municipal cheerleaders so deaf to that suggestion? Have they been going to musical events that don't have decibel meters? 

Prediction: Armando's will continue to grow in popularity, and will become the only after-hours destination spot in downtown Martinez. Well, it already is, so that's not much of a prediction. But still, Roy Jeans and Eloise Cotton have created a masterpiece of a club (despite the decibel meter), a location where you can just relax and listen. I've never seen a problem in the place that wasn't attended to immediately, and I don't hesitate to suggest this as a spot for people of all ages and musical persuasions to go for auditory bliss and community love. As a side note, my band, the Very Bad Boys, will be there on Jan. 17, and five more times in 2009. Drop me a line if you want to be on our mailing list. 

Another side note about decibel meters: if the owners of these places with decibel meters are so intent on the bands keeping the volume low, will they be every bit as adamant about keeping the audience from talking through these now-low-volume performances? There are far too many instances where customers feel the need to chat at full-volume while musicians are trying to get something across. It would be fair and far more palpable if the decibel meter were aimed at these chatterers as well as at the band. Thank you.

Prediction: No one will continue to know you when you're down and out (blues joke).

Prediction: This column will become relevant and interesting in 2009 (a huge stretch, but you never know -- it could happen). 

All that said, what's important is that you and yours have a prosperous and productive year, despite all the noise and hand-wringing about the economy. And don't forget to get out and hear some live music this year. It's never been better, and you know you love it. 

The Best Kind of Christmas Present

A brand new red Firebird. Sounds spectacular. Plays like butta. 

The Carols of Christmas - A Cacophonic Conundrum

Merry Christmas, those of you who celebrate this holiday. I sincerely hope today finds you among family and friends and warmth and comfort, even if you don't celebrate Christmas. It's cold outside, in more ways than one. Individuals, and the entire human race, needs all the warmth and comfort it can get, with the distinct exception of the whole global warming thing. Today a lot of folks are sleepily walking around in new pajamas, sipping warm goodness from holiday-decorated cups and watching children play with new toys. Later there will be all kinds of food, and more warm stuff in cups (perhaps, by now, even laced with warmer stuff), and, of course, the singing. 

And that, dear friends, is what I'm here to talk about today. The singing. 

I have an enormous soft spot in my heart for the word 'carol,' because I'm married to a person with that name, and I am mightily in love with her. However, that spot grows progressively harder, stone-like, even, when the word moves to define a seasonal song. When it comes to Christmas music, I am downright cynical -- Scroogelike, even. Except I'm not. Dichotomy, my friends. Contradiction. Disconnect. These are the plagues of my holiday season. That endless tape loop of both instrumental and vocal versions of these songs I've been hearing my whole life, now used as relentless marketing tools in shops and malls and elevators everywhere, that say "'tis the season, now get out there and buy things," makes me dislike the songs, and yet my memories of childhood are drawn to these very same melodies, and I secretly shiver as they waft inside what's left of my brain. 

So today, let's take a look at the origin of some of these tunes, as presented to us by our good friends at Wikipedia. If you don't know what that is, great. Then just chalk up this information to my vast array of knowledge, and we're good to go. 

The Twelve Days of Christmas: it's been postulated on the Internet for some time now, in those endless chain letters that plague my inbox, that this song is really some kind of code for English Catholics who use these various things given by his or her true love to symbolize religious items. This, according to the best research, is simply not the case. It's believed to be a sort of game, where the singer sings a verse, and the players sing it back, and the singer sings another verse, and the players sing both back, and so on, until one of the players makes a mistake and has to give up a kiss or a sweet. This is the kind of thing people used to do before they had reruns of "House" in those post-present, pre-dinner hours. Also, it used to be a tradition to celebrate Christmas from Dec. 25 to Jan. 6, thus the 12 days. And the song is believed to be French in origin, which explains a lot about its length and its lack of, um, focus. 

Silent Night: One of my favorite carols, and now I know why. The words were written by father Fredrick Mohr, an Austrian priest who apparently wanted a song to sing in church that he could play on his guitar. The music was composed by the headmaster of the school, Franz Gruber. The year was 1818, right at the beginning of the German Romantic period, and you can hear the aching, the longing, in that gorgeous melody. It's not a simple song to sing, but every voice I know clamors to sing it, because it is truly a melodic prayer. And, as with so many of these carols, everyone knows the first verse, and only some know more than that.

What Child is This: More aptly named "what song is this?" for it's Greensleeves, for my money one of the most haunting and gorgeous melodies of all time. It evokes the music of the middle ages better than any other surviving melody from the time, already well known in Shakespeare's time and probably originating to the early 1500s, a fellow named William Chatterson Dix fell ill in the late 1800s and sank into depression, composing a number of hymns, including "What Child Is This?" It's probably impossible to know which version is better known with the melody - the hymn or the ballad. But it's a great song, and proof that truly great songs live on forever. Just look at "Louie Louie." 

Jingle Bells: This is not a Christmas song, though it has certainly become one. It was written in 1857 by James Lord Pierpont, who takes four verses to describe various equestrian misadventures involving snow. The first verse and chorus we all know, the others not so much. But this song was originally written for Thanksgiving, apparently. However, since there aren't many sales of goods and items on Thanksgiving, the good merchants co-opted it as a Christmas song, is my theory. But after eight years of the previous administration, I'm still a little bitter and conspiracy minded. One of my enduring Christmas memories is my dad playing that Bing Crosby Christmas album every year, and his version with the Andrews Sisters is the one I will always associate with this tune.

Happy Xmas (War is Over): Perhaps it is indicative of my history and background that this is the song most evocative of the season for me, and the one guaranteed to make me break out weeping every time I hear it. Why do I weep? Because John Lennon had a way with composing heart-rending melodies that grab my guts and twist them in delicious ways. And I weep because, just when the song gets good, John shoves Yoko to the microphone and my bliss is rudely interrupted by the vocal shenanigans of Ms. Ono, who, with all due love and respect, cannot and should not sing on songs that feature John. So it's a true weeper, this song. The best and the worst of music. Oh, and the message. War is over, if you want it. It reminds us, as John frequently did so well, that the fates by which we believe we are pummeled are really in our hands, if we choose to take some action and shape the world the way we think it should be. 

And with that, have a fantastic day today. I hope you get all the things you want, material and spiritual, and that you have love right in front of your eyes the whole day and night through. 

Music Business:Happy Holidays, We Won't Sue

This just in:
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2008/12/19/financial/f115719S10.DTL&tsp=1

"We're at a point where there's a sense of comfort that we can replace one form of deterrent with another form of deterrent," said RIAA Chairman and Chief Executive Mitch Bainwol. "Filing lawsuits as a strategy to deal with a big problem was not our first choice five years ago."

In an industry in its final death throes, it is astounding to me that the head of the organized crime, er, organized music business can make the above statement and not collapse from laughter. When you are literally starving for customers, the best you can offer them is one form of deterrent to another? Really? And this is your business plan. Ok, then.

I understand that downloading music online is seen by the industry, and by some musicians, as the equivalent of shoplifting. I get that. But here's the simple truth -- it's simply not. It's file sharing. If some kid sees a file online at a site which is perfectly legal to be on, and the file is offered for free, then how is that the same as taking something from a store? The problem is not the customer, the problem is the provider.

The music industry, in its ignornance and greed, completely ignored the digital age, except to harvest obscene amounts of money from CD sales. They make a CD for pennies and sell them for $15 each. When music became digital files, swappable through computers, the industry just didn't see it happening until it had become part of the culture. Once it had, oh my. Then the customers were bad. And liable. And subject to litigation, and in need of educating. 35,000 people, mostly kids, were sued by the record industry, for the crime of downloading files off of a computer.

Hey, record executives: we realize that ya'll don't have degrees from Harvard Business School, but here's a little newsflash for ya: people download files off the Internet every. single. day. For free. It's part of the culture, for goodness sake. You are the only industry (well, you and your moronic cousins in the movie industry) to make it a crime. You should have seen this coming many years ago, and invested some time, energy and brain power into designing a suitable model for this form of distribution. But, of course, you didn't. Because your distributors were busy explaining that they were still important. How's that working out for you these days?

Personally, as a professional songwriter/musician who stands to lose money from the taking of my intellectual property, I am all for marching these fools off to prison for instigating this legal form of terror on innocent people who were (gasp!) trying to enjoy some music. Yes, the old ways of doing things worked out very well for those musicians and songwriters lucky enough to sign with a label and get work. Hundreds of thousands of musicians and songwriters were left out of that loop, though. No longer. The wild west of the Internet has leveled the playing field, and the industry as we know it ceased to exist in actuality several years ago. It just doesn't know it yet. I celebrate that demise.

But far more importantly, I look forward to the new music business as it grows in front of our eyes. There are exciting opportunities everywhere right now, and we get to watch things take shape from the beginning. At the very least, we won't have to watch kids getting sued for the crime of enjoying the music.